


No Special Obligation

by vylit



Category: White Christmas (1954)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vylit/pseuds/vylit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for entwashian</p>
    </blockquote>





	No Special Obligation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for entwashian

 

 

"Hey, Capt'n, this seat taken?"

They'd been in the states for a week, officially discharged from the army for two hours, and Bob was just sitting down, a hot cup of joe and the first decent breakfast he'd had in years laid out in front of him. The eggs were scrambled to fluffy, yellow perfection, the sausages looked plump instead of dehydrated anemic slabs, and the biscuits were light and drenched in gravy. A good meal, one worth enjoying and a long time coming.

"Be my guest. I thought you'd have blown town by now."

Davis sat down on the stool, his lanky legs folding into themselves and a wide smile on his face. "Thought I'd stick around here for a while. Do a show or two." He paused to grin at a skirt that walked by, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and a whistle on his lips. "The guys told me you'd be here, and we'd talked before about us maybe doing that song together, and I was going to give you a ring but --" His stomach growled loudly. "I needed some chow."

Bob chuckled and held out his hand, flagging down the waitress. "Then let's get you something to eat first."

"I was thinking one of those egg salad sandwiches. I do love an egg salad sandwich," Phil said, laying a hand on Bob arm.

* * *

"This was a good run. You got some real potential, Davis. A few years, and you could pull in some crowds, so keep working on it," Bob told him, placing a folded shirt on top of his slacks.

Bob hadn't expected much. A young kid like Phil, no real professional experience on stage, and sure, he could pull a show together out of a few untrained soldiers, but that wasn't New York - a rickety stage in the middle of a war was more forgiving than civilian crowds any day. But Davis hadn't lied. He had an all right voice, some stage presence, and he could stay in step, even suggested a few numbers they could put together to create an act. But still Bob liked the road, liked doing these his own way, going where he pleased, and singing the numbers he wanted. He was thinking Chicago to start, work his way back to New York.

"Thanks, Bob. Thanks. I sure appreciate it." Phil leaned against the wall, trying hard to look casual. "They really liked us tonight. There was some nice applause, a few stand-ups, not bad for a new act," he cleared his throat and his voice cracked. "I hear that duets are more popular than singles these days."

"Is that so?" Bob asked, latching his suitcase and grabbing his hat.

"Yes. Yes - why I got a call from Charlie Meyers a few hours ago, and he needs an act, a duet."

"Charlie, that old son of a gun, watch out for him. He'll pay you in promises if you don't keep an eye out."

"No, no not this time, Bob. He wants to book us. Nothing big, see, just a few weeks over at his place. We'd be on at a good time, though, and he's willing to pay fair money."

Bob set his suitcase down by the door and sat on the edge of the table. This might take a while. "Well there are some fellas in town you could work with. Tom down at Shakers, he's got a passable voice, nice guy, a little wet behind the ears from what I remember, but as honest as they come."

"I heard that - I heard that. But Tom doesn't have your range, and with your voice and my onstage presence, there's no telling how far we could go. Why, I bet we could get shows booked from now until August without a problem." Davis swung his arm out to punctuate the last word, missing Bob's shoulder by an inch. "I - I think we've really got something here - really something, and I'm not saying that you couldn't do well on your own, because you could - why a great entertainer like Bob Wallace doesn't need a partner to fill the seats - but it's not good for a man to spend that much time by himself, not good at all."

Bob smiled. "I think I've done all right so far."

"Of course you have, of course, and if you don't want to do it, I'll call Charlie right now and tell him you're not interested." Phil picked up the phone and his other hand started rubbing the skin right above his elbow, his eyes wide. "I wouldn't want you to feel any special obligation to me on account of what happened..."

Bob sighed. He did feel obligated to maybe help him out a little bit, show him around, get his name out there - the least he could do for a pal in the army. Truth be told, it might not be that bad, having a partner for a while, nothing permanent, but few months, a few shows, and a couple of laughs. Might be just the way to ease back into things. "All right, I don't have anything set up for the next few weeks. We could do a show or two together."

Davis broke into a smile that could melt ice. "Really, Bob?"

"Yeah, as long as Charlie's willing to pay, I wouldn't mind a gig or two to get my feet wet. Nothing permanent, I --"

"You won't regret it, I can tell you that." Davis grabbed his hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. "We'll have them lined up around the block. Wallace and Davis - Wallace and Davis, who would have thought? I like the sound of that, Bob."

"Me too, Davis. Me too," Bob laughed.

* * *

"Bob, I talked to Loraine, and she has a girl for you - real nice one, lots of class. How about you and I go out and have a few laughs?"

Bob shook his head. "We still have to rehearse the third set, and I don't know where Oscar's gone with those canes we need."

Bob never intended Wallace and Davis to be a permanent act. In fact, he was sure that being one half of a duo was last on the list of things he wanted to do - somewhere behind a trip to the dentist and a kick in the head - partners meant complications and compromise, two Cs that Bob was more than willing to leave to other poor dopes.

"It's New Years Eve. Come on, old man, it wouldn't hurt for you to come out and have a drink or two, enjoy the company of a few girls," he said, smiling, a hand on Bob's shoulder. "Two drinks - two drinks and if you're not having a good time, we'll leave."

"All right, but two drinks and that's it. We have a lot of work to do for the show tomorrow."

"Scouts honor," Phil said. "Two drinks, and if you want to come back here, I'll find a taxi for you. I'll even pay for it."

"But no girls."

"No girls! Bob, you can't go out on New Years Eve without a girl. Who will you chat with or," Phil cleared his voice, "kiss when the ball drops?"

"Now I said I'd go out, but no girls. I know the kind of skirts you're interested in Phil, and I don't plan to spend my night with some giggling female that doesn't have anything to say."

"All right. All right. No girls. No girls." Phil held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But who ever heard of going on New Years without a girl? I worry about you, Wallace."

"Duly noted," Bob said with a smile.

Phil grumbled as he walked away, and Bob was whistling when he followed him a few minutes later. A man that got his way as rarely as Bob did needed to appreciate his moment.

* * *

That night they ended up a nightclub, one of the newer ones in New York, with a couple of up and coming talents as their floor shows. People were laughing and drinking, and despite Bob's protests, he let Davis buy him more than two drinks. By midnight, the two drink rule had become ten, and despite their lack of female company, Bob and Phil both had girls to kiss come midnight. 

It was two in the morning before Bob and Phil stumbled into their cab.

"Happy New Years, Bob," Phil slurred in his ear when the taxi stopped at their hotel.

"Yeah, happy New Years to you, too, Davis," Bob said, opening the door and climbing out.

Phil tossed the cabbie a few bills and rolled out after Bob, reaching up to grab his shoulder for support. "I think I'm drunk."

"You're not the only one, pal. Let's get upstairs," Bob said, an arm around Phil's back.

"Hold one a minute, Wallace," Phil said as his body tilted away from Bob. Phil's hair was wild, he smelled like cigarettes and expensive liquor. 

And when Phil leaned over and kissed Bob, under the streetlight in the best city on earth, Bob Wallace kissed Phil Davis back.

This partner thing wasn't so bad after all, and honestly, it was the least he could do for a pal in the army.

 


End file.
